Cover image for Star Wars : the force awakens : a junior novel
Star Wars : the force awakens : a junior novel
Publication Information:
Ashland, Or. : Blackstone Audio ; Prince Frederick, MD : Distributed by Recorded Books, p2016.
Physical Description:
5 sound discs (5 hr., 30 min.) : digital ; 4 3/4 in.
General Note:
Compact disc.

In container (17 cm.).
Many years have passed since the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker and the Rebel Alliance were victorious over the evil Empire, and the galaxy has been at peace. But now a darkness is rising. The brave men and women of the Resistance must stand against Kylo Ren and the villainous First Order.


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A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY. . . .Relive the excitement of one of the most anticipated movies of all time with this action-packed retelling of Star Wars: The Force Awakens Many years have passed since the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker and the Rebel Alliance were victorious over the evil Empire, and the galaxy has been at peace. But now a new darkness is rising. The brave men and women of the Resistance must stand against Kylo Ren and the villainous First Order.Author Michael Kogge recaptures all the adventure and action of the blockbuster film in this book that also contains exclusive scenes

Author Notes

Bestselling science fiction writer Alan Dean Foster was born in New York City in 1946, but raised mainly in California. He received a B.A. in Political Science from UCLA in 1968, and a M.F.A. in 1969. Foster enjoys traveling because it gives him opportunities to meet new people and explore new places and cultures. This interest is carried over to his writing, but with a twist: the new places encountered in his books are likely to be on another planet, and the people may belong to an alien race.

Foster began his career as an author when a letter he sent to Arkham Collection was purchased by the editor and published in the magazine in 1968. His first novel, The Tar-Aiym Krang, introduced the Humanx Commonwealth, a galactic alliance between humans and an insectlike race called Thranx. Several other novels, including the Icerigger trilogy, are also set in the world of the Commonwealth. The Tar-Aiym Krang also marked the first appearance of Flinx, a young man with paranormal abilities, who reappears in other books, including Orphan Star, For Love of Mother-Not, and Flinx in Flux.

Foster has also written The Damned series and the Spellsinger series, which includes The Hour of the Gate, The Moment of the Magician, The Paths of the Perambulator, and Son of Spellsinger, among others. Other books include novelizations of science fiction movies and television shows such as Star Trek, The Black Hole, Starman, Star Wars, and the Alien movies. Splinter of the Mind's Eye, a bestselling novel based on the Star Wars movies, received the Galaxy Award in 1979. The book Cyber Way won the Southwest Book Award for Fiction in 1990. His novel Our Lady of the Machine won him the UPC Award (Spain) in 1993. He also won the Ignotus Award (Spain) in 1994 and the Stannik Award (Russia) in 2000. He is the recipient of the Faust, the IAMTW Lifetime achievement award.

Alan Dean Foster's Star Wars: The Force Awakens, was a 2015 New York Times bestseller.

(Bowker Author Biography)

Reviews 1

Kirkus Review

Sci-fi veteran Foster (Star Trek into Darkness, 2013, etc.) returns for the novelization of the latest Star Wars blockbuster. For those readers who've been living in a galaxy far, far away, the Star Wars franchise has returned with a new film, the first since 2005's Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. As novelized here, Rey is a scavenger eking out a solitary existence. Finn, a stormtrooper who's fled his post, crosses paths with her when he crash-lands on her desert homeworld, Jakku. When he realizes that she's in possession of a droid containing a sought-after map, they team up to return the droid to a rebel base, gaining some unwanted attention from what remains of the Empire, now known as the First Order. As with any novelization, what's sure to attract readers is what isn't in the movie. For example, the book opens with a look at the ruminations of Gen. Leia Organa, and, even though it's a brief scene, it handily delineates where the Empire and the rebellion currently standperhaps better than the actual film manages to do. However, some fans may be disappointed to find their favorite scenes offer little additional insight about characters' thoughts, and it's never clear why some moments receive additional detail or flourishes that didn't appear in the film, and others don't. Rey, in particular, comes across as somewhat more emotional than portrayed on screen. Foster keeps the prose steady if a bit workmanlike throughout, but there are a few nose dives into questionably florid prose; in the middle of one sentence, for instance, First Order baddie Kylo Ren is described as "saturnine of aspect, lithe of build, tortured of mien, and troubled of eye." Ultimately, it's the original story and characters from the film that make the book worth reading rather than Foster's contributions. The Force is adequate with this one. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.



Poe saw the saber come to life. Saw it start to describe its lethal arc. Time seemed to slow as he watched it descend. Thoughts raced through his mind, half crazed, wholly powerless. He heard himself yelling, sensed himself raising his blaster and firing. Too late, too slow, he told himself despondently even as he continued to fire.   Perceiving the threat, Kylo Ren reacted immediately. A hand rose sharply, palm facing toward the unknown assailant. The gesture was merely the physical manifestation of something infinitely more powerful and entirely unseen. It intercepted the discharge from the pilot's weapon, freezing it in midair as effectively as any solid barrier. From behind the mask, eyes of preternatural intensity tracked the attack to its source.   Initially driven by pure rage, Poe now found that he could not move. His heart pounded, his lungs heaved, but his voluntary muscles refused to respond. He was paralyzed as effectively as the blast from his blaster.   A pair of stormtroopers took hold of him and dragged him for- ward until he stood helpless before the impassive Ren. Had they not held on to him, Poe would simply have fallen over. He attempted bravado even so. "Who talks first?" Poe asked, making his voice light. "Do you talk first? Do I talk first?"   Having deactivated his lightsaber and returned it to his belt, Lor San Tekka's murderer casually scrutinized the prisoner. Poe's nerves twanged as feeling slowly began to return to his arms and legs. Ren's gaze settled on the details of the pilot's clothing.   "A Resistance pilot, by the looks of him." He nodded curtly. "Search him. Thoroughly."   One of the troopers who had dragged Poe forward commenced a detailed and none too gentle pat down. Pulling a small device from his service belt, the other trooper slowly passed it the length of the prisoner's body, beginning at the pilot's head and ending at his feet. The examination did not take long.   "Nothing," declared the first stormtrooper, standing at attention. Poe winked up at the trooper who had used his hands. "Good job."    Forgetting himself for a moment, the goaded trooper kicked the prisoner's legs out from under him. Poe went down hard on his knees, still defiant.   The other trooper gestured with the handheld instrument. "Same here, sir. Internally, this one is clean. Nothing but the expected food residue." He didn't hesitate. "Terminate him?"   Kylo Ren did not let his disappointment show. At such times momentary delays were not unexpected. All would be satisfactorily resolved, in good time.   "No. Keep him." A brief pause, then, "Intact and functioning."   Plainly disappointed, the two troopers dragged Poe away. Ren watched them for a moment, contemplating possibilities. Later , he told himself. For now, there were other details to attend to. He allowed his thoughts to be briefly diverted, regretting the time that had been wasting in dealing with necessary inconsequentialities.   Awaiting his pleasure, the senior officer in overall charge of the special squadrons drew herself up at his approach, her black cape of rank hanging loose around her. It stood in startling contrast to her armor, which even in the poor light shone like polished silver.   "Your orders, sir?" she murmured.   Kylo Ren surveyed his blazing surroundings. He had already spent too much time here, to only partial satisfaction. He disliked such delays.   "Kill them all, Captain Phasma, and search the village. Every building, every possible storage facility and place of concealment. When your troops have razed it to the ground, search the ground. Scanners, perceptors. You know what to look for."   A single nod and she turned. A line of troopers stood before the assembled surviving villagers. "On my command!" Weapons were raised. The reactions of the villagers were typical. Some stepped forward, insolent to the last. Others fell to their knees. There was whimpering and crying and shouts of defiance. None of it lasted very long.   "Fire!"   It wasn't a massacre. In the lexicon of the First Order it was nothing more than a prescribed chastisement. Appropriate retribution for harboring a fugitive of note. It was the nature of the tutorial that was important, not the numbers involved. It took less than a minute.   When it was over, and the only sounds were methodical chatter among the troopers mixed with a variety of unholy crackling, they dispersed to carry out a final survey and scan of the debris--inorganic and otherwise. Standing by himself, one trooper with a bloody face mask was startled when a hand came down on his shoulder. Though the hand belonged to a comrade, the first trooper did not relax.   "Notice you didn't fire. Blaster jam?"   Automatically, the trooper being questioned nodded in response. His comrade gestured knowingly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Turn it in when we get back to base. Let the tech boys deal with it and get yourself a new one."   "Thanks. I will."   No sooner had his helpful colleague departed to rejoin his own unit than the trooper found himself gaping at the tall, dark-clad figure striding purposefully toward the singular shuttle that had set down in the midst of battle. Though he willed himself to move, to turn away, he found he could not. He remained rooted in place, clutching his unfired weapon, staring despite himself.   And in response, the figure of Kylo Ren turned and looked sideways, directly at the soldier. The trooper saw only light reflecting off a mask, and his own fear.   He knows. He must know. And I'm . . . dead .   But he wasn't. The glance lasted barely a second. Then Ren resumed his pace, deep in thought as he strode toward the shuttle. In the course of returning to his ship he passed a blaster lying on the ground. It was Poe's, the one that had come within an arm's length of killing him. Once he was beyond its reach he touched it--but not with his hands. It rose, seemingly of its own accord, and flew free, smashing into a nearby structure and scaring the wits out of an idling stormtrooper unfortunate enough to be standing nearby.   The purification of the village extended to its outskirts, where a clutch of troopers had just finished searching the damaged X-wing that had been abandoned there. Having done all they could with the tools and equipment at hand, they prepared to return to their units. Specialized gear could have reduced the Resistance fighter to its component parts, but that was not how they had been ordered to proceed.   "Nothing there," declared the last of the quartet as he descended from the fighter's cockpit. "The usual Resistance trash; that's all. Deep scan shows nothing in the fuselage or elsewhere."   As soon as he was safely out of range, his companions activated the pair of heavy weapons they had brought to bear on the hiding place. A couple of bursts was all it took to reduce both ship and outcropping to rubble.   The sound of the exploding X-wing reverberated across the gravel flats and dunes. Far away now, a solitary spherical droid looked back even as it continued to flee. The fireball that rose into the sky suggested the detonation of something far more volatile than primitive buildings and scrapped mechanicals. If he could have rolled faster, the frightened droid would have done so.   Contrary to much popular thought, desert worlds are not quiet at night. In the absence of light, an entirely different ecology springs to life. Moving with greater caution, BB-8 tried not to pause at each howl, every meep , the sounds of clawed feet scraping against bare rock. There were things in the vacant, wild regions of underdeveloped planets that would gladly take apart a solitary droid just to see what made it tick. Or roll, he knew. His internal gyros threatened to send him tumbling wildly at the very thought of such an encounter.   Droids such as him were not meant for unpopulated places, and he desperately desired to find others like himself. Or, failing that, even people.   The shackles that Poe had worn on the troop transport were removed as soon as he and his captors disembarked. Aboard the Star Destroyer, there was no reason to physically restrain the prisoner. Apparently enjoying themselves, or perhaps merely impatient to get out of their armor, his escort chivvied him along with what he considered to be unnecessary roughness. Not that stormtroopers of any ilk were noted for their individual diplomacy. Considering whom he had tried to shoot, he knew he ought to consider himself fortunate that they had brought him aboard still attached to all his important appendages.   A physical state of being, he knew, that could be altered at any moment.   On the other side of the enormous and impressive receiving bay, other troopers were filing out, grateful that more of their number had not been lost on the expedition and looking forward to some rest and food. Intent on reliving the battle below, they paid no attention to one of their own who fell behind. When he was convinced no one was looking at him, the trooper turned and raced back into the open transport. He removed his helmet and proceeded to void the contents of his stomach into the nearest refuse receptacle. The terror in his expression was palpable. Fortunately, there was no one there to witness his disgrace.   There was, however, now someone behind him.   Terror gave way to cold fear as he found himself gazing back at Captain Phasma. How much had the senior officer seen? How much did she know? Too much, as it turned out.   Aloof yet commanding, she indicated the rifle he still carried. "FN-2187. I understand you experienced some difficulty with your weapon. Please be so good as to submit it for inspection by your division's technical team."   "Yes, Captain." How he managed to reply without stammering he did not know. Instinct as opposed to training, he decided. Self- preservation.   "And who gave you permission to remove that helmet?"
   He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Captain."
He could feel her disgust as he struggled to put the helmet back over his head.   "Report to my division at once," Phasma said. Worse, he knew miserably, was likely to come later. Excerpted from The Force Awakens by Alan Dean Foster All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.